The Ninth Nightmare

Brother Albrecht raised both arms. Shafts of bright light radiated from his outstretched hands like a brilliant sunrise. ‘The circus is over,’ he said. ‘The tents are struck. The dreamer awakes.’

He took hold of Xyrena’s hand and drew her toward him. He put his arms around her, and kissed her, and then they slowly streamed upward toward the roof of the tent, more like a shining golden fountain than two people embracing each other.

The roof of the tent opened up like the petals of a huge black flower. Brother Albrecht and Xyrena rose up into the purple sky, and with a last scintillating glitter they were gone.

There was a moment’s silence. Then, with a soft thunderous sound, the big top started to collapse. The audience screamed and panicked and rushed for the exits, but even as they struggled to escape they began to disappear. Brother Albrecht’s dream was over and they were waking up, too.

Tonnes of black canvas dropped on top of the stage, drowning the clowns and the freaks and the circus hands like a huge black tidal wave. Jekkalon tried to battle against it, shouting out, ‘Mom! Mom! Mom — where are you? Mom!’ Dom Magator grabbed his arm and shouted, ‘It’s too late, Jekkalon! It’s all over! There’s nothing you can do!’

‘But that’s our mom!’

‘She died, Jekkalon. She died a long time ago. We need to get out of here before Mickey Veralnik wakes up.’

Zebenjo’Yyx was tugging loose the knots that had fastened An-Gryferai to her chair. He untied her gag, and helped her down from the stage. Her wings had shed some feathers, and her arms were badly bruised, but otherwise she was unhurt.

Together, the Night Warriors struggled their way out of the big top and jogged out between the marquees and into the wheat fields. When they were clear of the circus site, they turned around to see the last of the black tents collapsing and the last of the caravans falling apart. In only a few minutes, the entire traveling circus and freak show was blowing away in a boiling cloud of black dust, which rose hundreds of feet in the air. Clowns and freaks blew away with it as if they had never existed, which most of them never had. The last structure to teeter and fall was the archway carrying the sign which said Albrecht’s Traveling Circus & Freak Show.

As it fell, though, An-Gryferai said, ‘Look! Over there!’’

Running across the fields in the opposite direction was Mago Verde, his white hair flying behind him. His head was lowered in determination and his arms and legs were moving like a clockwork spider.

‘He’s escaped, the bastard,’ said Zebenjo’Yyx. ‘Why didn’t he blow away like the rest of them?’

‘He’s a Dread, that’s why,’ Dom Magator told him. ‘He belongs in his own dream, not this one. He’s trying to get back there before this one collapses for good.’

‘He’s not getting away,’ said An-Gryferai. ‘Not after what he’s done.’

She started to limp after him. Dom Magator said, ‘Stop, An-Gryferai! You’re hurt! He’s not worth it! We’ll get him some other time, in some other dream, I promise you!’

But An-Gryferai was determined. She ran faster and faster, and she began to beat her wings, harder and harder, and at last she took off and climbed up into the dark purple sky.

‘An-Gryferai!’ called Jekkalon and Jemexxa, but she ignored them and flew after Mago Verde like an eagle flying after a coyote. Stray feathers blew from her wings, and the crosswind made her angle and dip, but it took her only a few minutes before she had caught up with Mago Verde and was flying right over his head.

Panicking, he turned his head around and looked up at her, but he kept on running. ‘Go away, you bird-bitch! Get the fuck away from me!’

But An-Gryferai was thinking of her grandmother Gryferai, and the way that Gryferai had finally destroyed the Black Shatterer. She knew now that it was a Night Warrior’s duty to annihilate every kind of evil, regardless of the danger and regardless of the cost.

She opened up her talons and swooped down on Mago Verde, grasping his shoulders. Her claws pierced his black tailcoat and buried themselves an inch deep into his flesh. He screamed in pain and rage, but she beat her wings in a deep, steady rhythm, and she lifted him clear of the ground and up into the air. His legs pedaled wildly, but she took him higher and higher.

As she flew, she looked down and she could see her shadow flickering across the wheat fields, with Mago Verde dangling below her. She saw her fellow Night Warriors, the sun glinting off their armor. They waved up at her and she tried to smile back at them, although by now she was gasping with effort.

She turned in a semicircle and flew with Mago Verde back toward the township of Melancholy. Mago Verde was screeching and cursing, but he was helpless.

‘You will suffer for this, bird-bitch! You will suffer so much!’

She reached Melancholy and flew along the main street. Strangely, nobody looked up at her. The dream was coming to an end and their existence was gradually fading away.

‘I am Mago Verde! I am the Green Magician! I am Mago Verde!’

An-Gryferai lifted him up over the diminutive church. He was screaming and sobbing now, because had had guessed what she was going to do. She took him up a little higher, and hovered over the church spire, flapping her wings steadily to keep her position against the wind.

‘Do you want mercy?’ she shouted at him.

‘Mercy!’ he screamed. ‘For Christ’s sake, mercy!’

‘You should have thought of that, a long time ago,’ she told him; and then she released the mechanism of her claws and he dropped from her grasp, his arms and legs windmilling wildly.

He fell directly on to the gilded cross on top of the spire. It pierced his belly and was driven right through him. He ended up face down, his arms and legs dangling, with blood slowly sliding down the spire.

An-Gryferai circled the church once, and then she flew back slowly to join the rest of the Night Warriors. When she skip-landed in the wheat field next to them, they all whistled and clapped her, and Jemexxa hugged her tight. ‘You’re so brave, An-Gryferai. You’re amazing.’

Together they walked through the fields toward the flickering blue portal in the distance. Halfway there, they saw four faded figures standing in the wheat, their images blurred in the dust and the sunlight. When they came closer they saw Kieran and Kieran’s mother Jenyfer, in a simple gray dress, her hair pinned up, smiling at them. Not far away stood Michael-Row-The-Boat-Ashore-Hallelujah, holding his puppy. A little further in the distance stood Detective Wisocky, one hand in his pocket, chewing a wheat stalk, and next to him, smiling, Maria Fortales.

Dom Magator raised his hand to Detective Wisocky and Detective Wisocky waved back. Then he turned around and started to walk away.

‘Mom!’ shouted Kieran and Kiera, and ran to put their arms around her. ‘Mom, you came back!’

Jenyfer Kaiser kissed each of them. ‘No, darlings, I haven’t come back. I’ve just come to say goodbye, and thank you for saving me. I belong in dreamland now. But this is a happy dreamland, with good people, and you can always come visit me, any time you fall asleep.’

Dom Magator went up to Michael and hunkered down beside him. ‘How are you, little fellow?’

‘I’m happy, too,’ smiled Michael. ‘Jenyfer and me and Froggy, we’re going to stay together and Jenyfer’s going to bring me milk and cookies.’

Dom Magator took off his helmet, and tousled Michael’s hair.

‘Did I ever tell you that I love you?’ he said.

Michael shook his head. ‘You didn’t have to, Mr Dauphin,’ he said. ‘I always knew.’

TWENTY-THREE Awakenings

Kiera was woken by a persistent hammering on the door of Room 237. She lifted her head from the pillow and looked around, blinking. The clock beside the bed said seven fifty-three a.m. and the sun was shining between the drapes.